March 20th On the way to Kalocsa, Hungary.
Dinner last p.m. with new Montana friends plus 3 other interesting women: 1 attractive, dark-haired, vivacious, witty dermatologist (well-kept, late 40s?), 1 very reserved woman (age?), also a dermatologist, based in Rapid City, S.D., an area I know well … Pine Ridge Lakota Reservation, the Black Hills. Motorcycle rallies. The “Faces” (on sacred Indian land) Crazy Horse sculpture – The third woman, very engaging manner, keenly observant, widowed by a drunk driver. Experienced (retired) FBI agent, one of six women in a class of 30 at Quantico. Yes, she experienced misogyny in the FBI! Nothing new.
We found a lot of common ground: my years of training and hands-on work in Wyoming Dept of Corrections, criminal thinking, sex offender treatment etc. Shared a few war stories (no names or places). My Montana friends quickly connected as well: Life in Montana, Dakotas, isolation, political strife, DEI controversy, etc.
Blessedly, for the joys of conversation: a quartet of pretty sharp “cookies”, we! Jere, the Strong Silent Cowman added warmth, charm and gentle humor amongst this bevy of feisty, independent women.
It’s gratifying to observe what a happy, cooperative relationship he and Patti share. Patti was raised by a strong-willed Polish woman, who was married to Patti’s stepfather, a strong, proud Croatian.
Lots of stories there: 3 women in medical profession, 1 really capable ranch owner and businessman – and Lyndie! Croatian/Catholic/Polish memories. Cows, calves, kids, grand-kids. We could have talked all night.
My merely bizarre claim to fame was my love of jumping horses over ditches bareback and jumping out of airplanes for the fun of it. Never caught a saboteur or delivered a baby or a calf. Much less fixed Bad Skin! (Dermatology)
Story-telling happens when we aren’t out there being tourists and looking for souvenirs. It enriches all of us!
People keep asking for my story, of course. We all take turns! I always mention Lois’s Blog. People are fascinated with my story. They do ask lots of questions! At the point of describing the Blog, attention wavers, as people drift back to their own preoccupations.
It seems there are Blogs EVERYWHERE! … This is so new to me! I grew up with typewriters and telephones attached to wires. I still hand-write letters. … My kids think I’m positively pre-Jurassic. But I love life and hearing stories and traveling and having fun!
The FBI woman said “Lyndie will be hard to forget” – Chalk that up to her training at Quantico! She was a senior “interviewer”. That’s my favorite sport too!
In the cocktail lounge, gathering for more Viking heads-up stuff, about meeting our boat, the Ullur, we met a delightful, spirited British couple, Ian and Clara, a retired anesthesiologist and retired nurse. They live north of London in the Midlands.
They had plenty to say about what’s happening at National Health, what ISN’T happening, and what Mr. Starmer aims to do about it, the Post Office scandal, refugees in boats, the trade wars and Mr. T., Ukraine and Mr. P.
We also laughed a lot! They own an elderly river-boat (family-sized) for holidays via local waterways. It runs on diesel and needs a permit to park, moor (or whatever you call it) along the way. We saved Gaza and Mr. N. for another time. They brought me a gin and tonic and wouldn’t let me pay. Very nice.
Stimulating 4-hour excursion to Kalocsa, Hungary – traditional center of Roman Catholic heritage. Big, ornate cathedral, sort of baroque (over-glitzed), first built 1001 A.D., destroyed and re-built five times (Turks, Mongolians, Nazis, Soviets). Fine organ recital beginning with Bach – a familiar, well-loved piece (I rarely remember titles) plus other works.
Startled to see so many fellow travelers plainly bored, tapping busily away on their phones throughout.
With some effort I squelched my smug judgements, and returned to the delights of listening! Reveled in hearing how one side issued a bold challenge like a question, while the other side, gentler, more conciliatory but insistent, issued its response. Loving the way music talks to itself, while we eavesdrop, waiting to be entered, waiting while it travels along our bones, blood riverways to our heart.
Attended a grand show of horse antics and human horsemanship. Rode a bumpy road by farm fields on a cart. The little old man, clowning with a little donkey, was my favorite.
Big, handsome, stern-faced horsemen were formidable – macho to the max! I want them on my side if it’s gonna be World War III.
To the Boat! Ullur!
Farewell to the hospitable, proudly patriotic Hungarians! Koszenom!
Even a main boulevard in Budapest is named Attila! I am sad to leave. But lots of precious memories. Warm smiles. Paprika!